Left Over Tomato
The halved tomato
was freezer bagged and kept in the fridge too long
Breakfast is nothing without a tomato
but this melting fruit
is in a dream state. Not corrupted yet,
not rotten as we might explain rotten,
just spoiled, going soft, its skin shrinking.
The yellow -green pulp and juice
is still viable, The spongy pips still intact
though now it looks ill as it it had drank bathwater.
It is dying the way all fruit dies
from the center and core.
Some people die like that also;
healthy on the outside,
smiling in a golden ray of health,
yet within
there innards are turning
into the sludge of decay.
I'm hungry, and I don't care if the tomato
is a member of the Deadly Night Shade family,
or that its acidic and gives me heartburn,
fried eggs and toast demand at least half a tomato,
and who knows
maybe I will enter its dream world
soon enough anyway.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
